


Winning the War Blindfolded

by literatiruinedme



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatiruinedme/pseuds/literatiruinedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These poor men - practically boys - some of them barely 18 and they've already seen too much. She felt horrible for them. All these men. She wished she could protect them but sadly, she knew she couldn't. Not in the middle of a war.<br/>Men passed through every day; some in a sling, some on a stretcher, and some in a coffin...all accept one Sergeant J.Mariano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winning the War Blindfolded

She sighed as she walked through the rows of soldiers. These poor men - practically boys - some of them barely 18 and they've already seen too much. She felt horrible for them. All these men. She wished she could protect them but sadly, she knew she couldn't. Not in the middle of a war.

Men passed through every day; some in a sling, some on a stretcher, and some in a coffin...all accept one _Sergeant J.Mariano_. Lone survivor of the 107th. The poor boy was stuck in a bed with cuts and bruises and other things of the sort. He managed to get shot in the chest, receive a fracture to his femur, break a rib- the list seemed to never end. The worst of it, though, was his coming into contact with mustard gas. They had bandages over his eyes and were praying for just temporary blindness. It had happened before - she's seen men get hit like this and get right back up after a month or so, good as new, but she always worried about him in particular. Not just because he made good company or because of his storytelling skills - his storytelling could pull the whole room over, it'd happened at least twice by now - but he had grown on her. She originally just felt sorry for the boy, but after a few weeks, she'd done the wrong damn thing and had gotten herself attached. The worst part? She honestly didn't care anymore. If she got attached to him at this point - who cared?

"Hi, darling," she said before reaching for his hand, careful not to startle him. "How're you feeling today?"

"I just got a whole lot better," he smiled, turning his head towards her voice. He was still struggling with the new restrictions on life: no getting out of bed unless accompanied by a nurse and that rarely happened unless he begged Rory but even she didn't want him moving too much, bandages over his eyes, limited use of his left arm, no moving one of his legs for fear of worsening his fracture, but the worst - the absolute goddamned worst - no reading. To him, the only good part about being in bed, having a spare minute, anything, was a good book and he couldn't even have that. He sighed, bringing her hand up to rest on his chest, their fingers intertwined. "How's it looking, doc?"

"Sunny and warm," she lied. It was cold and snowy and miserable out but she wanted him to think the best, so she lied and held his hand.

"It can't be sunny and warm again," he chuckled. He'd been in this bed for a good number of weeks and it was already mid-November when he came in. "It has to be at least a little cold out."

"Fine," she sighed in defeat, taking a seat in the chair at his bedside. "It's snowing and it's horrible and I wish we could just go home already."

"Wars aren't fought in a day," he shrugged. He slowly ran his thumb across her knuckles and listened to nothing at all. "Could you read to me?"

"I don't think I can right now," she frowned.

"Alright," he nodded with a sigh, knowing she had to make her rounds. "Go on, Kitten. Make your rounds and I'll be right here when you get done with them, alright?"

"Oh dear," she gasped, standing up away quickly. "I completely forgot about rounds!"

"Go," he chuckled, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. She gave him a small smile before dropping his hand and running off to take care of the other soldiers.

_"It'll be okay," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair back into place._

_"Are you joking," he asked. "Because you're not funny."_

_"No," she chuckled. "I'm not joking. You're out of the woods and you didn't get exposed to much of the gas. I believe you'll make a full recovery."_

_"You're very optimistic," he smiled in her direction. "So how long you think I have to wear this?"_

_"It's not a pretty girl, Sarge," she teased, pulling his hand back from the bandages blocking his vision. "No touching. You'll have 'em for a while, though."_

_"Jeez," he sighed. "Wait until Lily hears about this."_

_"You got a girl," she asked, trying not to sound hurt. She picked up a gauze pad and pressed it to his chest._

_"No," he laughed, causing himself to wince in pain. She gently grabbed his shoulder to help him sit up and pressed her other hand over the gauze, ignoring the small smile that played on her lips. "She's my little sister. Sweet kid."_

_"You write her often," she asked as she wrapped a roll of gauze under his left arm and over his right, over and over again, trapping the pad against his chest._

_"Not as often as I'd like to," he sighed, dropping his head forward. "She'll be upset that I can't even write her anymore."_

_"I can write her for you," she offered, helping him lean back down. "I mean, you tell me what you want and I'll write and address it for you."_

_"You'd do that?"_

_"Don't tell the other boys or I won't," she threatened._

_"Thanks, Kitten," he said, taking hold of her hand. "You're sweet to me."_

_"Don't mention it," she said, pulling the covers over his chest and packing up her things._

"Are you still awake," she whispered, sitting down beside him. He gave her a small nod. "Good," she said, opening the book in her hands.

"What'd'ya got there," he yawned when he heard the spine crack as the flipped through the pages.

" _The Great Gatsby_ ," she smiled, running her fingers over the front cover. "My mother just sent it from the states. I told her I've been reading every night to a handsome soldier so she thought it'd be nice to send me something."

"Wait a minute there," he said. "Handsome soldier? I'm handsome now?"

"Yes," she smiled. "You're handsome."

"Well," he chuckled. "Don't I feel special?"

"You should," she smiled before dropping her gaze back down to Fitzgerald's words and cleared her throat. "Alright, 'In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since...'"

_"Kitten," he sighed as she placed a tray of food in his lap and took the spoon from his hand._

_"Don't," she warned for the fifth time._

_"Alright, fine," he sighed, holding his hands up in defeat. "So, what does Uncle Sam have for his jolly old soldiers, today?"_

_"Peas, potatoes, and ham," she started firmly. "Oh, and a coffee."_

_"We both know that coffee's for you," he smirked._

_"Open," she ordered, holding up a spoonful of peas. He frowned for a moment before doing as he was told. He hated having to be fed by someone else. He survived a depression - he could feed his own damn self. "And yes, the coffee is mine."_

_"At least you admit that you have a problem," he muttered._

_"Don't talk with your mouth full," she scolded._

_"Yes, nurse," he sighed when he finished chewing. He smirked when he heard her blow a breath out through her nose. Solely calling her "nurse" always bothered her. He'd heard many-a-story about men made to cry by continually calling her "nurse". It was either "Rory," "nurse Gilmore," or in his case "Kitten."_

_"I'll beat you with this spoon," she threatened. "I don't care if you are a sargeant. Open."_

_"Yes, nurse Gilmore," he nodded as if he was a scolded child. "Want me to go get the ruler myself?"_

_"Don't make me sic the dogs on you," she threatened again._

_"There's no dogs here," he chuckled._

_"It's a war zone," she huffed. "If I pin a few curls and put on a nice dress, I'm sure I can drum up a few."_

_"Alright, Kitten," he surrendered. "You've got me beat."_

_"I thought so," she nodded. "Open."_

"Darling, I have good news," she smiled sitting down beside him on his bed.

"Shoot," he said, taking her hand in his.

"Well," she dragged out. "Guess who's allowed to take off his blindfold."

"Patton," he teased, sitting up in bed.

"You're no fun," she frowned, reaching up to his head. She untied the knot by his ear and slowly unwrapped his gauze. "What's the world look like, Sarge?"

He slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the light before settling upon her face. "Wow."

"It’s that pretty," she asked, laughing through her words. He stared at her intently, bringing his hand to her face. "What?"

"I mean, I thought you were beautiful," he said quietly. "But this is just unreal."

_"Sarge," she sang. "I come bearing letters."_

_"Who sends their love," he chuckled._

_"Luke Danes, Jimmy Mariano, and Lily-"_

_"Read that first," he interrupted._

_"But I've got more-"_

_"Please, Kitten," he begged._

_"Alright," she nodded, tearing open the envelope. "'Dear Jess, I'm glad you're in a good hospital. The nurses must be very nice if they'll write a letter for you. We all miss you at home- Uncle Luke promised he'd send over a few extra packs of cigarettes in your next care package, as well as a book or two. I know you've probably read your copy of The Sun Also Rises to death.' You like Hemingway?"_

_"Yeah," he nodded._

_"Not me," she scrunched up her nose in disgust._

_"Earnest only has lovely things to say about you," he said affectionately._

_"Whatever, Sarge," she chuckled. "Where was I...oh! 'I know your copy's probably in pretty bad shape if it's even in any shape - you probably have loose pages floating around in your backpack. Anyway, this nurse Rory sounds really nice. I'm glad you have someone you can talk to that doesn't feel the need to walk out into crossfire afterwards-' wow, that's harsh," she chuckled. "'Jimmy sends his love and everyone at the library says the books aren't used nearly enough without you here. Stay safe and give 'em hell. All my love, Lily.'"_

"I have orders," he said quietly.

"What," she asked, sitting down beside him.

"I'm transferring out to the edge of this god forsaken island in two days," he frowned. "Something about going into France. CO sent a telegram about giving the Nazis hell and taking back Europe. Big invasion."

"You can't go," she shook her head rapidly, tears welling in her eyes.

"I think it'll be on a beach," he offered, trying his best to make her feel better.

"This is serious," she shouted, standing up and turning to face him.

"I know, Kitten," he sighed, taking her hands in his.

She leaned her head against his chest as tears fell down her face. "You can't go," she wrapped her arms around his waist and quietly sobbed into his shirt. "I won't let you."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in her neck. "But you have to."

"No, I don't," she shook her head. "I'll make up a reason for you to stay- I'll say something went wrong with my stitching- I'll-"

"Hey," he said quietly. "I'll be okay. We're going to end this war and we'll help a lot of people and when I get back we'll go dancing. Just like you wanted to, okay?"

"You promise," she asked, giving him doe eyes.

"Cross my heart."

_"No," he screamed, jerking up in bed. He blindly grabbed for his lamp. Where was his lamp? It was right on the bedside table! It'd been there since he could remember. Where was it, where was it, where-_

_"Sarge, calm down," he heard someone whisper. He felt a woman's hands on his face shaking him out of his panic. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her as she whispered calming words to him. "You're okay, just calm down, it's only me."_

_"Kitten," he breathed heavily. She rubbed small circles in his back as his breathing slowed._

_"It's me, Sarge," she reassured him. "You're alright, just breathe."_

_He nodded quickly. His tried his best to calm down as quickly as possible. He didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want anyone too. "Boys don't cry," his mother once shouted in a rage. He was so hungry and it was so cold in their little apartment and he was only five but she yelled at him. She yelled it over and over again until he ran out to the diner across the street and started hitting the glass, yelling for "_ _ Uncle Luke". He ran down and pulled him inside, wrapped him in a blanket and fed him. The poor kid could barely comprehend where daddy was or why mommy spent all her money on "grownup drinks" and why he got yelled at for being cold and hungry but her words stuck. Boys don't cry and he better not break that rule. _

_"Darling, you're okay," she whispered when he pulled away. She wiped away his tears with her thumb and gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're alright."_

_"I'm fine," he sniffed, wiping his thumbs just under the bandages over his eyes. The dark made it worse. He couldn't get the_ _images of men getting shot and others choking on yellow smoke as he ran like hell and pulled a gas mask he stole from his dead best friend over his face. He was a coward and people died because he couldn't give up salvation in time._

_"You did the right thing," she whispered after a moment of silence. He itches the invisible outline of where the mask sat on his face. "I read your report and you did the right thing. Handing off a mask to a dying man doesn't save anyone."_

_"You're wrong," he shook his head. "I could've saved them. I could've done something else. I-"_

_"Sarge," she said quietly, interrupting his rant. "Unless you're secretly Captain America, you couldn't have done anything."_

_"But-"_

_"No," she stopped him. "You did nothing wrong." She stood and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Go back to sleep, Sarge. It'll all be alright in the morning."_

"Allies win the war," her mother smiled, sitting down in the booth across from her. "What a headline."

"Yeah," she said, chin balanced on her hand , her gaze on nothing in particular.

"Still no word," her mother asked with a frown. She nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sure you'll get word soon."

"I hope so," she sighed as a large mug of coffee was placed in front of her.

"You know," the person who placed her drink down started. "That much coffee can't be good for you." Her head shot up to see him standing in front of her. "Hey, Kitten."

"Sarge," she cried, standing up quickly and throwing her arms around him.

"Easy there," he cautioned. She looked over the see the cane holding him up.

"What happened," she asked, pulling over a chair for him. He shrugged and sat down as she did the same.

"Got hit," he shrugged, gently rubbing his hand over his thigh. "But we won the war."

"So, dancing," she questioned after a moment of silence.

"Six weeks from Friday work for you?"

"Any day works for me."


End file.
